Cavemen and Martians and Doughboys, Oh My!

I have as much faith in the newspaper’s daily horoscopes as I do in a Chinese factory worker’s ability to pen prophetic words and stuff them into my fortune cookie. This raises the question…Why aren’t  there more psychic lottery winners?

I do, however, find it interesting that cartoon characters and puppets have birthdays. Not because I think that everyone born on November 2 will share Cookie Monster’s unhealthy relationship with food or that those born on February 22 will suffer from Pebbles Flintstone’s speech impediment. It is simply fun. Unless, of course, you are like me and learn that not a single one of your beloved childhood characters shares your birthday.

Here is a list of assorted talking ducks, dogs, and other creatures and their dates of birth (according to various websites).

January 9-Daisy Duck

January 12-Mater

January 17-Huckleberry Hound

January 13-Rubber Duckie

January 28-Ernie

January 29-Aquaman

February 2-Fred Flintstone

February 3- Elmo

February 8-Beeker

February 12-Gromit (Wallace & Gromit)

February 14-Pink Power Ranger

February 17- Rod Flanders

February 19-Batman

February 22-Pebbles Flintstone

February 25-Patrick Star (Starfish)

February 29-Superman

March 2-Porky Pig

March 3-Lucy Van Pelt

March 4-Woodstock & Rowlf Dog

March 9-Barbie

March 17-Dennis the Menace

March 18-Pillsbury Dough boy

March 20-Big Bird

March 22- Kenny (South Park)

April 1- Bart Simpson

April 15-Huey, Dewey, and Louie Duck

April 17-Daffy Duck & Sherlock Hemlock (Sesame Street)

April 19- Sylvester the Cat

April 20-Barney Gumble

May 1-Sponge Bob Square Pants

May 5-Yosemite Sam

May 9-Kermit the Frog & Lisa Simpson

May 12-Homer Simpson

May 15- Minnie Mouse

May 21-Captain Caveman

May 25-Goofy & Winnie The Pooh & Gossamer

May 26-Kyle (South Park)

May 29-Iron Man & Top Cat

June 1-Oscar the Grouch

June 7-The Amazing Mumford

June 9-Donald Duck

June 14-Miss Piggy

June 19-Garfield & Tasmanian Devil

July 1-Guy Smiley & Cartman (South Park)

July 24-Marvin the Martian

July 26-Bert

July 27-Bugs Bunny & Jon Arbuckle (Garfield)

July 31-George Jetson

August 7- Wallace (Wallace & Gromit)

August 10-Touché Turtle

August 19-Snuffleupagus

August 21-Christopher Robin & Augie Doggie

August 29-Speedy Gonzales

August 31-Herry Monster

September 5-Clifford the Red Dog & Pluto

September 13-Scooby-Doo

September 15-Mr. Burns

September 19-Slimey

September 30- Snagglepuss

October 1-Marge Simpson

October 2-Snoopy

October 6-Peggy (King of the Hill)

October 9- The Count

October 14-Grover & Winnie the Pooh

October 16-Telly

October 19-Stan Marsh (South Park)

October 25-Squidward

October 28-ALF

October 30- Charlie Brown

November 2-Cookie Monster

November 18-Mickey Mouse

November 21-Quick Draw McGraw

November 30- Mr. Krabs (Sponge Bob)

December 17-Little Bird (Sesame Street)

December 22-Elsa (Disney)

December 25-Mr. Smithers

December 27-Howdy Doody

Who do you share a birthday with? Who would you most like to share it with? 

My Nose Smells. No, really. It Stinks.

I possess a very keen sense of smell, but there is something that I have always wondered, but been afraid to ask.  Do nostrils smell?  Of course, I know that nostrils are capable of enabling us to sense a smell.  What I am asking is “do nostrils, themselves, actually emit an odour?”  I have never sniffed with any nose other than mine, so maybe I have just become accustomed to the smell of my own nasal cavity.  What if it really stinks and, as a result, I am not able to smell the world around me properly?

i smell spit (1)

Maybe Tim Horton’s coffee doesn’t really smell like skunk butt.

Oh no.  I have always loved the smell of freshly pumped gasoline–a fact that has raised many an eyebrow over the last few decades.  Ugh, I’m old.  Maybe it smells horrible–like asparagus pee–and I don’t know it.


How can any of us really be sure that our own nose aromas aren’t interfering with our sense of smell?  The only way to be sure is to rip off another person’s nose and borrow it.  You know–try that childhood “got your nose” trick, but really mean it.

I got your nose!!


Speaking of body parts, I love Tim Burton movies.  He’s rather an odd duck, I know, but his bizarre perspective on the world translates into brilliant films.  I have always wondered, however, how Edward Scissorhands partakes in rock, paper, scissors.  Seriously.  Only an idiot would do the old “one, two, three” and pull out a flat paper hand.


And, as long as I am on the subject of idiots. In Canada, we have a dishwasher detergent called “Cascade” and its commercials star a woman who solves dish-related domestic disputes.  Unbeknownst to me, it would appear that we Canadians take our dish washing very seriously. This sage of plates and forks refers to herself as the “Cascade Kitchen Counsellor,” presenting troubled dirty dish owners with this miraculous product that can remove baked-on foods and marital discord in one dishwasher cycle. This is my new dream job.


But I digress. Back to the question at hand. Do you think your nose has a smell?


Images courtesy of:  Asparagus pee (, I’ve got your nose (, Scissorhands (,

I Apologize on Behalf of my Middle Finger…

How do you hold your pencil? Apparently, I use the “death-grip” method–which is unfortunate if you happen to be my pencil. Or my middle finger. Yes, my propensity for clutching my pencil with brute force has resulted in a large protuberance that I (somewhat) affectionately call my “writing bump.”

skeleton pen

I was once a robust, healthy pen. And then “she” got her hands on me.

Well, it turns out that my unsightly writing bump is the product of an “immature pencil grasp pattern.” Okay. I have been referred to as immature before–usually after I have been spotted talking to a mitten or drawing eyes on a cantaloupe–but this is a whole new form of…um…youthfulness. Yeah, that’s it. Youthfulness.

sad cantaloupe.jpeg

It’s hard to eat fruit with a face. 


After years of communicating via the QWERTY method, my writing bump had almost disappeared. My middle finger had returned to its pristine pre-pencil self. Finally, I could hold it up with pride. I found myself wanting to show everyone just how lovely it looked. Surprisingly, no one seemed impressed. Coincidentally, this era is also known as the lonely years.

Even Mr. Rogers is proud of his “Tall Man.” (Just heard this sentence out loud for the first time. It sounds worse than it actually is.)

Enter the adult colouring book–the seemingly benign collection of highly addictive intricate drawings designed to transport fully grown people back to their childhoods. Seems like a perfect match for someone with an immature pencil grip. There is just one problem. Yes, thanks to Johanna Basford and her tribe of evil colouring book artists, my writing bump has returned to its former gargantuan glory.

On the upside, my middle finger is much less outgoing than before.


Here are a few examples of what happens when the innocent fun of colouring  enters the adult realm.

colouring picture for lazy


Bored Panda

thrill murray

Mental Floss

 puke by numbers

Sad and Useless


one night stand

Huffington Post


Have you fallen victim to the adult colouring phase? 

Yellow pants, rubber sheets, and a new Bic Razor…my increasingly bizarre shopping list

I almost threw up on my pillow last night. No, my pillow didn’t do anything to repulse me. It was just lying there as pillows tend to do. It’s this damn cold and my body’s apparent need to rid itself of it by plunging me into esophagus-splitting coughing fits. And, common side effects of said coughing include peeing oneself and vomiting in a manner that would have landed me the starring role in the Exorcist. 



Except much less green. What the heck have they been feeding that girl? Pistachio pudding?


Yes, the human body often betrays its owner. For instance, I harbour deep-seeded fears of vomiting on a customer’s forehead or accidentally urinating on a coworker’s shoe. It could be worse, however. I could be the woman whose farts forced the landing of a plane.

farts you just cannot trust them

In December 2006, an American Airlines flight was forced to make an unexpected landing in Nashville after passengers reported smelling burning matches. The travellers were evacuated and bomb-detecting dogs were brought in to sniff out the problem, locating a stash of used matches under one passengers seat. The seat’s occupant admitted to the FBI that she had been lighting the matches in an attempt to hide her flatulence brought on by a medical condition. Wow. That’s gotta blow.


Speaking of blowing, if you have ever had a head cold, you know how annoying it can be. You blow and blow and still, your nostrils remain clogged shut. Imagine how this man–often referred to as the record-holder for the world’s largest booger–felt.


And, before pushing play, I should warn you that this could lead to you doing your own Exorcist impression.


Ack! Right? I’ll wait while you go grab the mop.

The human body is a mysterious and, oftentimes, uncooperative and somewhat masochistic thing. But it can also be a source of great amusement.

Sometimes eyebrows form a united front.


Ear hairs run wild…


Noses grow long…


biggest nose

Mix 965 Houston.

And bladders  have a mind of their own. No one’s body cooperates all the time. I have to go change my diaper.


Can Puppets Get Hemorrhoids?

I was a strange child, but I was also a problem-solver. In an effort to repair my status as an “only child,” I decided to create a quartet of loyal friends that would stand by me no matter what. And nothing proved more faithful than my trusty appendages–Mildred & Snowy Foot and Petty & Loyalist Hand. Yes, my hands and feet were the trusty friends that I was looking for.

Unbeknownst to me, however, my right hand had strong political views. I just thought the name “Loyalist” was pretty. Leave me alone. I was 4.



Petty and Loyalist loved to talk, but as I grew older, it became apparent that other people preferred hands to remain mute. This posed quite the conundrum. On the one hand, I felt guilty silencing them after years of allowing them to converse freely, but, on the other, the threat of a padded cell did prove to be a strong deterrent. Petty & Loyalist–and by association, Mildred & Snowy–were silenced.

(Insert moment of quiet reflection followed by the playing of Taps). 

Until I discovered puppets. Finally, my hands could talk freely without shattering my ever-shrinking facade of sanity.

Over the years, Loyalist has accumulated a sizable wardrobe. Sadly, Petty’s comparative lack of cooperation limits him/her/? to playing spastics, the feeble-minded, and members of the NDP.


This limbless, mouthless, eyeless…er…puppet is the perfect match for Petty’s skill level. He/She/? has spent many hours of bliss donning this one-of-a-kind Thalidomide Helen Keller puppet.

Loyalist, however, has mastered a full range of class, order, and phylum ranging from Michelin Star chefs to red-nosed reindeer to snails. Yes, snails.

Speaking of snails. it was recently brought to my attention during an episode of Top Gear that snails give trout piles. I didn’t even know that fish could get hemorrhoids. I eat trout. Have I unwittingly eaten a ‘roid? Ack.

trout with hemorrhoid

“Stop squeezing my damn hemorrhoid!”   (Browntownutah’s Blog)

This, apparently, is the type of thing that Richard Hammond and Jeremy Clarkson –two avid British car guys–discuss while stranded in a South American desert.


Top Gear snails and piles


Which raises a question in my neuroses-plagued mind–What type of havoc will be wreaked upon my buttocks if I eat a trout that has piles and a stomach full of undigested snails?

beeker shocked

David Kanigan. 

Inquiring minds–and puppets–want to know.

If you could operate any puppet, which one would you choose? I know I’d be Bert, hands down. Then again, if my hands were down, how could I operate him?